Chapter 18: How Arnulf of Erlenburg Finds Soldiers for his Brother

The Castle of Erlenburg was in deep mourning. Rudger, Lord of Erlenburg had died the night before, at fifty years of age. When his wife, Helga, had gone home to the Divine Maker one year ago, it was as if she had taken his will to live with her. He simply wasted away.

His three sons sat with their father's trusted advisors, discussing the difficult situation. The oldest, Gøtz, was the heir to the castle and the lands. He was close to thirty, and he was admired as wise beyond his years. He would have been the perfect successor if it had not been for the illness that was crippling him. Over the years, his muscles and bones had grown weaker and weaker, and he sat in his father's chair, a shadow of the strong young man he had been, ten years ago.

That wasn't all. His marriage with Heidrun had not been lucky. Both children had died in the first year of their lives. Then, Heidrun died delivering another, stillborn child. Now, Gøtz was too feeble to court another woman or to sire more children.

Gøtz knew that his own death was not far away. He would have welcomed this, had it not been for his brother, Albert. The second-oldest brother was an honest soul, brave and true, but he was given to rashness and drink. The thought of Albert as Baron of the lands was worrisome.

Only the third brother, Arnulf, was a natural successor to their father. Strong of mind and limbs, loyal to his father and brothers, he was the epitome of what Gøtz could wish for. But Arnulf was chafing under his position as youngest of the three, and he had been talking about leaving the Erlenburg, to make his own fortune as a soldier. That must not happen, Gøtz thought.

"Brothers," he began, speaking with his weakened voice, "we face dangerous times. Our father's death will encourage our old enemies, while it will dishearten our friends. You both know that I am in no shape to travel and speak with our allies, to renew the ties our father knotted. Albert, I need you to be my sword arm. The way my body is wasting away, you will soon succeed me. I need you to be around, in charge of the Erlenburg.

"Arnulf, I beg of you, do not leave us. I want you to become my voice of reason, speaking with our neighbours, friends and foes. I also need you to look for fresh troops. I fear our neighbours will test our strength soon, and we have to replace the two companies that took service with Waldenfels."

"Who do you want me to talk to?" Arnulf asked tentatively.

"I want you to sound out Nassau. Find out his plans. Visit him. Visit Ulfried of Meiningen, Father's cousin, and renew our friendship ties."

"I can do that, Brother, but where would I find troops?"

"The first of the marauding landsknechte are returning from Rome. There is a troop of them close to Fulda, I hear. They may be up for hire."

"What are they up to, near Fulda?"

Gøtz smiled.

"Find out. Have a look at them, and please, come back!"

The visit with the Count of Nassau was unsatisfactory. The Count roundly refused to meet with the younger brother of the Baron of Erlenburg, and Arnulf was forced to travel on towards Hesse. Arriving in Fulda with his small entourage, he heard that the troop of mercenaries he was looking for had moved on to Marburg.

At least, the Count of Marburg received him friendly. Phillip I. was a keen follower of Martin Luther and ahead of his times. He had, in the last year, founded the first Protestant university, and his lands had been spared the ravages of the peasant rising of 1525.

When Arnulf asked his host about the landsknechte who camped near Marburg, the Count explained that they were displaced soldiers from Saxony. While they had fought in Italy, their lord and master had died and was succeeded by his younger half-brother. They were unwilling to serve that man. They had been peaceful, so far, had even offered presents to the Count, but he would be happy nonetheless to see them leave. A large fähnlein in his lands worried him, and he had no use for them.

Arnulf rode to the camp of the landsknechte the next morning. They had built a regular field camp, with tents and fireplaces, and when Arnulf neared the site, he was challenged by a sentry. He identified himself and asked for the captain.

When he entered the largest tent, he faced three men, obviously brothers, and, to his utter surprise, two women, clad like soldiers.

"I am Arnulf of Erlenburg; my brother is the Baron of Erlenburg. I have heard from our friend, the Count of Hesse, that you may look for a contract."

The largest of the brothers looked at him for a few moments.

"Greetings! I am Joerg Isebrand, and I am the Captain of my men. My brother Bjoern Isebrand is my lieu tenant. Thorben Isebrand and my sisters, Katherine and Nele, are feldweibel."

Arnulf could not help but smile at the thought of two women, not only serving as soldiers, but in fact leading a rotte. He noticed, though, that both women were tall and sinewy. The younger woman took offence at his smirk.

"Your smile, noble Arnulf, is out of place! Watch us in battle before you dismiss us."

She had fire! Arnulf realised that she was a strikingly beautiful woman and still quite young. He was instantly contrite.

"Forgive me, Nele Isebrand, for my slight. I did not mean to belittle you."

"You had better not, Arnulf of Erlenburg, for my sister strikes a wicked blade," the Captain grinned, and Arnulf saw the other brothers nod grimly. "Why would you want our service?"

"My father borrowed two companies to the Count Waldenfels, to suppress the peasants in the Black Forest, and they remained in his service. We have need of replacements, seeing that some of our neighbours are unfriendly."

"You want us to serve as garrison, then? With regular pay?"

"This is so, indeed. My brother offers a contract for three years."

The oldest of the brothers spoke for the first time.

"We are looking for a place to settle down, noble Arnulf. We look to buy lands with our winnings from Rome. A contract for three years will leave us uprooted again."

"This is something I cannot decide. I can imagine, though, that my brother may be willing to accept strong vassals on our lands. The Black Death passed through our lands, seventeen years ago, and there are villages that are still deserted. Why don't you come with me? I can offer you quarter for the winter. You'll meet my brother, and we may both get what we want."

The tall captain looked at his brothers, and they nodded. Then he looked at the older sister.

"Let's talk about it," she said.

To Arnulf's surprise, it was the tall woman, Katherine, who did most of the haggling and who found weak spots in the contract, time after time. Arnulf quickly came to respect her; she was smarter than most men he had ever met.

Only when Arnulf saw the names on the parchment of the contract, did he make the connection.

"Joerg Isebrand? The Joerg Isebrand, son of Wulf? They gave you a nasty byname in Warnesund, didn't they?"

Briefly, Arnulf saw annoyance flit over the tall man's face, but then he shrugged.

"It's how I deal with neidings," he said.

Arnulf chuckled.

"Oh, I didn't mean to judge you. I heard the story from several people, among them the old Count of Schwerin. Have you ever met him?"

"No, I thought it wiser to stay away from the North," Isebrand answered with equanimity. "Enough of past things. When do you want us to march?"

Arnulf grinned.

"How about day after tomorrow?"

Isebrand nodded and turned to his older brothers.

"Bjoern, Thorben, will you tell the men? Katherine, will you send word to the Count that we shall leave his lands? Bid him our greetings and our humble thanks."

The tall, older woman nodded and stood, while the older brothers were already heard outside the tent, giving orders. Just then, two young women entered the tent. Both were obviously with child, and they were no blood relations to the Isebrands, either, as Arnulf saw. They were smaller, one with dark brown tresses and a ready smile, the other with black hair and the sad face of a Madonna.

"Are we leaving?" the brown haired woman asked the fierce looking giant.

"Yes, sister. The Baron of Erlenburg is in need of our service, and he might offer us places to settle."

"Noble Arnulf, this is my brother Thorben's wife, Gudrun, and this is Crescencia, Bjoern's wife. Sisters, this is the Baron's brother."

"I greet you, Noble Arnulf," Gudrun said, giving him a friendly smile, while the black haired woman nodded shyly.

"I imagine you will be happy to settle down," Arnulf smiled back. "I know it is hard for a woman to be a soldier's wife."

"I'm used to it, and I wouldn't have it any other way," Gudrun replied with obvious pride.

"We need her," Nele said. "She takes care of us when we are sick or wounded."

Arnulf shook his head in wonder. This was an extraordinary family. He looked at Nele again. She was lovely, there was no other word. Her flaxen hair was tied into two neat braids, framing a heart-shaped face, with a good, strong chin, a well-formed mouth, and a straight nose. Her eyes were deep blue, almost violet, shaded by long, soft lashes. Arnulf realised he was staring.

"Why ... forgive me the question ... what made you decide to become a soldier, Nele. Certainly, it cannot be for want of men who would have you?"

She looked at him for a few moments.

"It started because I wanted to defend myself against men 'who would have me', as you say, and would not listen to my 'no'. Then, when we left the marshes and my brothers became soldiers, I found I liked the life. I delight in sword practice and fighting. It's better than being a farmer's wife, living at the whim of a simpleton."

"Being a soldier is dangerous, though. Aren't you afraid? The risk for a beautiful girl must be even higher."

She gave him a wolfish grin.

"It would if men took me seriously, but they never do. They die before they realise that I am their better."

Arnulf bowed and smiled at her.

"I thank you for your fair warning! I shall take you seriously, I promise!"

"You better!"

Joerg Isebrand's rumbled words sent a shiver over Arnulf's spine.

Gøtz of Erlenburg tried to sit upright, but the pain in his tortured limbs made that difficult. He sighed heavily. The situation was gloomy. The neighbours were hostile, and although their long-time adversary, the Count of Nassau, was holding back, they would soon have to fight to protect their lands.